The Perfect Gift
by Alexandri
Summary: Hermione takes Ron shopping at a muggle store. Written in 2005.


**Title:** The Perfect Gift  
**Author:** Alexandri  
**Warning:** 2nd person narration.  
**Rating:** PG

You smile—partly amused, partly offended—at Ron's gape-mouthed shock as his gaze repeatedly sweeps the store. You can't blame him—the vast array of muggle electronics, many of which do things he's never even considered, is certainly mind-boggling to the uninitiated. Indeed, you've been to an electronics store before—prior to your Hogwarts day, of course—and even you're impressed. So even though neither of you have all day and the few customers the store has shoot you both curious looks (you'd insisted on taking Wednesday afternoon off so that the store would be fairly empty; Saturday is, after all, an abominably cruel way to introduce a pureblood wizard to one of the most profound divergences from his previous worldview the muggle world could provide), you allow him a moment for it all to sink in.

After several minutes have passed, you realize Ron is currently incapable of doing more than blinking owlishly at his surroundings. You tug on his sleeve (calling his name has failed to register in his dazed mind) and search his eyes for signs of culture shock overload. His eyes, though glazed, are sparkling, not unlike Dumbledore's had at the welcoming feast your first year. "Where do we start?" he asks, his voice awed, nervous, excited.

_Typical man_, you think as you lead him to the audio devices (you'd finally decided the day before that portable radios and Discmans would be the best segue—something to which Ron could relate and understand). Apparently, a love of gadgetry is inscribed on the male chromosome. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you give him a tour of the store, explaining televisions, computers, and electricity in general to him as best you can. You're pleased you can (somewhat) satisfy his curiosity. It makes all of the research worthwhile.

It takes you an hour to pry Ron away from the video games. You refrain from telling him that he's behaving like a muggle teenager because, as much as you love him, you know that being likened to a muggle will insult him. You've been working on changing that but it takes time to undo a lifetime of ingrained ideology especially when the indoctrination had been so subtle.

He, of course, argues; says that it's perfect, just what he's looking for. Patiently, you point out that what he really wants is a gaming system for himself and, no, he can't have one, electricity being non-existent in the wizarding world and all.

He's disappointed, you can tell, but he agrees and continues looking. Eventually, you decide on a remote-control aeroplane (Ron reckons the remote is like a bulky wand to control the plane, kind of) and a camcorder (Ron's delighted to see the muggle world has moving pictures after all—you say nothing because you can just imagine his reaction if you took him to the cinema). Though he's loath to go, you drag him to a bookshop, promising that you won't be there long and, together, you find a book explaining various phenomena familiar to muggles (how electricity works, how a television works, how aeroplanes stay in the air) in the children's section, a dictionary to explain all the technical terms, and another one to explain the definitions of the technical terms (you realize, even if they won't, that a lot of what you take for granted is entirely new to pureblood wizards). It only takes twenty minutes. Ron is proud.

You end your day with "tea" at a local eatery and Ron watches, fascinated, as you pay with crisp pounds and tiny pence. A stop in Diagon Alley (you just remember that you've forgotten wrapping paper) and from there you go home, a sense of accomplishment settling warmly in your chest. You've done it—an outing into the muggle world, all without any major hitches or meltdowns. You are proud, too.

The night passes easily. You watch Ron fuss over his purchases, meticulously wrapping and re-wrapping them (he uses almost an entire roll of paper in the course of the night). You casually tell him of various uses and explain different functions of the camcorder as you "read" over the bill you've been drafting to make Muggle Studies mandatory (it's the first time since you've started working on it that anything has distracted you). Finally, as you lie in bed, he turns toward you, a faint worry line between his brows.

"You think he'll like it?" he asks anxiously.

"He'll love it," you reassure.

"You're sure?"

"Of course."

He's quiet for a moment before saying, "He'll think it's the best gift he's ever got?"

With a soft smile, you tenderly brush the back of your fingers over his cheek. "Your dad will treasure it, Ron. He'll never forget this."

Content, he settles down and lightly wraps his arm around your waist. You fall asleep, pleased. Perhaps they'll come to appreciate the muggle world after all.


End file.
